


Jack the Ripper Says: "What?"

by smolleaf



Series: Discordia Side Fics [3]
Category: Discordia (Webcomic)
Genre: 19th Century, Family Reunions, Gen, If you know who Mr. Irwin is good on you, Not Beta Read, Pre-Canon, Short, Snow, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:14:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29282835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolleaf/pseuds/smolleaf
Summary: [CANON TO DISCORDIA, A LITTLE SPOILERY]Decades after the incident, a young boy confronts the old man.
Series: Discordia Side Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135001
Kudos: 1





	Jack the Ripper Says: "What?"

"Mister Irwin! Mister Irwin! Why are you always so cross?"

Clarvol followed after the old man diligently, little 8 year old legs trying to keep pace with him, who was oddly swift for how old he appeared. Mr. Irwin, however, tried to ignore the pestering of the young boy. He found his efforts in vain, however, as Clarvol came to tug on the end of his coat.

"Like that! Exactly like that! You were trying to ignore me!" The young boy pouted, trying his best to look angry as he looked up at Mr. Irwin.

Mr. Irwin hummed, gazing down at the boy. "I'd thought you had better things to do, dear boy," he spoke, a clear Scottish accent rolling off his tongue, "Go back to your parents, won't you? I have places to be."

Clarvol moved his hand to tug on Mr. Irwin's sleeve instead. He gave a big grin, before replying, "No thank you, sir. I'm going to keep bothering you."

Obviously not being left alone anytime soon, Mr. Irwin continued walking at a slower pace, allowing Clarvol to keep up. The winter snow fell softly on the two, a stark contrast from the dark tones that the two wore. Mr. Irwin wondered why Clarvol wasn't getting cold with how lightly he dressed for a winter night, though it wasn't as if he was bothered by it either.

"So, why *are* you so cross?" Clarvol reiterated, not satisfied with the lack of an answer.

Mr. Irwin couldn't give him a straight answer, of course. One Clarvol's age wouldn't understand exactly what he was referring to. He scoured his mind for something to excuse it, before giving his answer. "People tend to make me angry."

"...Oh!! That’s why you always have that look! You’re always around people!"

Mr. Irwin didn’t respond, but almost lost his balance when Clarvol high jumped onto his back, stopping him in his tracks. Clarvol’s small arms wrapped over the old man’s shoulders as he climbed to sit on them. Small hands poked at Mr. Irwin’s eyebrows.

“Look at these things! Your eyebrows alone could kill a man- Eh?” Mr. Irwin lifted Clarvol from where he sat, setting him back onto the ground. “Why’d you do that?”

"Boy, I will give you my truthful answer.” Mr. Irwin stared down at Clarvol with the intensity of a thousand suns. “I have my reasons, but you wouldn't understand at your age." 

Clarvol huffed. "But I'm grown-up enough! I know your big words old man! I'm not scared of them! Is it divorce?”

Mr. Irwin paused, and Clarvol took this as gospel.

“It is! It is divorce! Mister Irwin, what happened to your wife?” Clarvol exclaimed, curious to know everything about the mysterious man.

Mr. Irwin simply reiterated his point, “You wouldn’t understand at your age, dear boy.”

Clarvol continued to pout, dissatisfied with the answer given. “If you’re going to keep secrets, at least call me my name!”

“I have yet to learn your name, child.”

“It’s Clarvol! Clarvol uh… Clarvol!”

“That’s quite a strange name, is it not?” Mr. Irwin replied, “Did your parents come up with that?”

“No sir, I don’t have any parents. I just knew!”

Mr. Irwin stared down at Clarvol, a sense of familiarity washing over the old man. He adjusted his gloves, deep in thought. Something about the boy gave him unexpected feelings. Feelings of pride and joy, but strongest of all, the overwhelming sense of regret. Mr. Irwin knew who this child was, and they were both too similar to deny it.

Mr. Irwin motioned for Clarvol to continue walking with him, to which the young boy followed suit. Mr. Irwin held out his hand for the boy to take, Clarvol not hesitating for a moment. The only noises were the faint chatter of families in houses, distant trotting of the carriage horses, and the crunch of fresh snow underneath their feet.

Breaking through the silence, Mr. Irwin spoke, “There was a disagreement.”

“Huh? Between you and your…”

“Mhm.” Mr. Irwin paused to collect his words, trying to put it in a way the young boy would understand. “My spouse and I had a big disagreement a great deal of years ago. I left because I could no longer bear to see what h-” Remembering the ideals of where they resided, he corrected himself, “What they had become.”

“What did they become, Mr. Irwin?”

He didn’t want to remember too much of it, not in front of Clarvol. He should’ve honed his emotions by now, to show no weakness to a mere child. Repressed memories tried to resurface, the words of his partner almost spitting on him, as his worth was overtaken by the lives of puny, insignificant little m-

“You don’t have to tell me, Mr. Irwin,” Clarvol reassured. He pointed up at the old man’s angered face, “Your eyebrows are in an attack position.” Mr. Irwin couldn’t help but laugh at this, giving Clarvol the satisfaction of another emotion.

Though the positive emotions Clarvol brought him were the only ones that he had felt in a while, that lingering sense of regret remained. The young boy’s bright, almost unnaturally pale eyes reminded him of who he had been forced to leave behind. It was a shame, too, he had always wanted to raise a child.

It broke his old rotting heart to leave his own son behind, as he left on the boat the next morning.


End file.
